One of those rescue threads (Daniel, Deirdre, Thomas, Zoe? and open if you want more peeps)

[deirdre-rose.insanejournal.com]

Warning: Effects of sexual and physical abuse

They had one day left to fine Danny and Deirdre was beginning to get more than a little frantic. It had been her responsibility to watch over Danny in the first place, and a tragedy involving her brother had drawn her attention away. If that driver ended up causing two casualties, Deirdre was going to hate herself for a very long time. Not that Dylan was dead yet, but Deirdre was fairly pessimistic about his prognosis.

Thomas had taken to driving, and he wasn't keen on discussing the fact that Spectre had gone with Flynn instead of him. Deirdre was aware, distantly, that something had happened in Glasgow, but she didn't really have time to worry about the state of her friends' marriage. She was just happy enough to have him with her; and happier still that at the last moment, Zoe had decided to join them. Deirdre understood. They had done day and Zoe was getting as frantic as Deirdre was.

"The GPS says turn here," she informed Thomas, a moment before the automated voice chimed in and told him the very same thing. "Heh. Sorry."

"It's fine," Thomas said, flicking on his indicator and making the turn. "Where the hell are we again?"

"Maesteg, Wales," Deirdre replied. "And we are getting take away on our way out of town if we don't find shite, okay? I'm starving and I think Rhosa-fucking-weird-Welsh-word is about two hours away. We won't stop long, Zoe, I promise. Just a few moments? Mickey D's, I don't care. I'll even buy you a kiddie cone if you're a good boy, Thomas."

"Oh gee, thank you?" he said, his voice devoid of joy. "I could go for a burger though, and I can drive one-handed."

"Don't want to know how you figured that out, big guy! OOh, turn!" Once again, the GPS chimed in and informed them to turn right moments later, and Thomas complied. "Smith Street is like...the second one along this street."

They made the turn and drove along, counting the numbers up from 1. When they approached the 400 block, Deirdre started leaning out the window like a dog, and as 420 loomed into view, there were the numbers, crimson and plain as day.

"Holy shite," Deirdre hissed. "Zoe, is this the house? I don't feel an incubus in there, but I feel someone else. It's...whoever it is, they feel pretty weak."

Comments

[daniel_marlow]

Danny sucked in a breath when she pushed him back and checked him over. "Yeah," he hissed out, "my chest...pretty sure I broke a rib." He was bruised all over too, but the rib was the worst of it. "And this," he said, pulling up his pajama pant leg and showing them the angry red wound where the shackle was around his ankle. It was clear he had tried to pull away from it, without success. The wound looked infected.

"I can get this off of you, but I have to touch you, Danny. Is that okay?" Deirdre asked, while Thomas searched for a key in case it was within easy reach.

"It's okay," Danny breathed, still sniffly and half-crying. "Just get it the fuck off me."